


Happy Birthday, Kitten

by The_Busy_Beee



Series: What Are Friends For? [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Kidnapping, Lotor is Romantic, M/M, Minor Violence, Minor dark comedy, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 08:27:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17443415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Busy_Beee/pseuds/The_Busy_Beee
Summary: Keith and Lotor's circumstances are definitely unusual. One comes from a family stained in blood and violence; the other from a life of justice.They make it work.





	Happy Birthday, Kitten

**Author's Note:**

> And now, for a spin off! *Cheering*
> 
> I love the relationship between Keith and Lotor so much. 💕
> 
> Small warning:   
> Keith DOES sneak into a club and make out with Lotor while underage. However, nothing sexual happens until age 18, and is not even shown in this particular fic.
> 
> I did not tag it as underage for that reason, but if enough people feel it deserves the tag, I will update it accordingly.
> 
> This is the final (planned) installment for the 'What Are Friends For?' series. I will be marking the series as complete, but occasionally adding a new one-shot here and there as the ideas come because I've gotten a little attached to this universe. ^^
> 
> Thank you all for your support and your patience! I hope you enjoy!

Keith is scrambling eggs at the stove top in just his pajama pants when his phone buzzes. He doesn't hear it over the music that he's dancing to, but the flashing green notification light catches his attention. He unlocks his phone and finds a message from his mom.

 

_ Received: _

_ -Mom _

 

_ I'm on my way to a call about a floater in Servil Lake. Your boy better be clean, because I will not hesitate, even today. _

 

Keith snorts and stirs the eggs again before picking up his phone and searching for the right contact. When he finds the number, third on his recent call list, he presses call and tucks the phone between his shoulder and ear. The smooth voice of his boyfriend comes through after the second ring.

 

“Good morning, Darling. To what do I owe this eight am phone call?”

 

“Mom just messaged me. There's a body in the lake. Please tell me you cleaned up after yourself.” Keith reples as he scrapes the eggs into a small bowl.

 

“You know I never get my own hands dirty.” Lotor scoffs. Keith grins as he pulls out a fork. “Besides, I was in Grendhelm all night. Agris can attest.” 

 

“Hopefully more than just Agris. You know Mom wants solid alibis.” Keith points out as he drops onto the couch with his food. Lotor hums in his ear.

 

“Of course. I would never get anything half-assed past her.” Keith makes a noise of agreement. “Are we still having dinner tonight, then? Brumley's? A little ravioli, a little wine-”

 

“And then dessert at home?” Keith teases. Lotor chuckles.

 

“I like the way you think. I'll be home around six. See you then.” Lotor purrs before hanging up. Keith shovels the last few bits of egg into his mouth before picking up his phone and responding to his mother.

 

_ Sent: _

_ He has an alibi _ .

 

\---

 

Keith knows it's an odd situation. He's the son of a detective, his boyfriend is the son of a notorious Mob boss. It doesn't make sense. But maybe that's why it works so well?

 

Keith tightens the hair tie one more time before looking over his appearance in the mirror. He knows it's just dinner, they go out every week. But, tonight is their anniversary. Their seventh year anniversary, to be exact. If you ignore the few months here and there that they were fighting and “broken up”, which Keith does. 

 

Keith smiles at his reflection and can't help but think of when he first met Lotor. It wasn't love at first sight, by any means. It was more “I'm underage and shouldn't be in this club, but you're really hot, so I snuck in after you.” Keith had no idea who Lotor was or what his family business entailed, but as a hormonally charged sixteen year old, Lotor was a walking wet dream.

 

He had snuck past the large bouncer at the club door one night and weaseled his way into the area near Lotor. At first, the older man ignored him, but Keith had a plan for that. He just needed to look so hot Lotor couldn't look away.

 

So he took to dancing with other men; tall men, muscled men, handsy men. After an hour on the dance floor, he had lost his shirt and completely forgotten the main reason he had snuck into the club in the first place. There was a warm, broad chest behind him, large, calloused hands hold his hips. There were smaller, smooth hands running over his chest; Keith's hormones were in overdrive, face flushed, body hot, half hard in his ripped jeans.

 

Suddenly, the hands were gone and the two bodies moved away. Keith stumbled back a step, but was immediately caught by a pair of soft hands. The long fingers wrapped around his biceps, and Keith looked up to find Lotor's face smiling down at him. Keith had licked his lips, smiled in satisfaction.

 

Lotor's hands slid down Keith's body, framing his hips as he tucked his face into Keith's neck, long white hair forming a privacy curtain.

 

“You should be careful the types of clubs you sneak into, Little One. Somebody might eat you alive.” Lotor had purred. Keith was weak for that deep voice. Absolutely gut twistingly weak. 

 

Before the night was over, Keith was pinned against the wall in a darkened corner of the club, fingers tight in those gorgeous white locks. Lotor devoured his mouth, hands tight under Keith's thighs and pelvises pressed together. Keith was groaning, arching under the taller man. Lotor pulled away with a sharp nip to Keith's bottom lip. He grabs Keith's jaw as the younger man moves to lock their lips once more.

 

“How old are you, Kitten?” Lotor gravelled. 

 

“21.” Keith lied smoothly. Lotor raised a brow, lip curling in a dangerous smirk.

 

“Yet you bypassed security? Try again.” Keith swallowed, pursed his lips.

 

“Nineteen.” Keith tried. Lotor's eyes narrowed slightly and his fingers applied slight pressure on Keith's lower jaw.

 

“Last chance, Little One.” Lotor whispered, inches from Keith's face. Keith jerked his jaw out of Lotor's grip and glared at the older man.

 

“I'll be seventeen in two months.” Keith bit out. Lotor hummed and released Keith's jaw.

 

“There it is.” He drawled. Keith pouted, arms still draped over Lotor's shoulders.

 

“So what? How old are you?” Lotor raised both eyebrows this time.

 

“You don't know who I am?” He asked, genuinely surprised. Keith narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

 

“Should I? You're not from FBI's most wanted or anything, right?” He questions. Lotor throws his head back, laughing. 

 

“What kind of question is that? Do you think I would say yes, even if I was?” Lotor grins. Keith shrugs, trying for casual even though that smile has his heart racing.

 

“Fair point.” Lotor chuckles again, shaking his head.

 

“You can call me Lotor. I'm nineteen.” Keith hummed, fingers running through the silky strands once more.

 

“Then, that's only a two year difference. I don't see what the problem is.” Keith complains. Lotor pinches Keith's side, causing the younger teen to yelp and drop his legs.

 

“Of course you wouldn't.” He replied. “Come find me in fourteen months, and I'll happily deflower you.” Keith purses his lips and juts his chin.

 

“Who says I'm still a virgin?” Keith taunts. Lotor yanks the teen forward by his belt loops and crashes their mouths together, immediately overwhelming Keith with his skill. When Lotor pulls away, they're both panting and Keith is gripping Lotor's forearms tightly.

 

“Your trembling knees.” Lotor husks before pulling away. “Don't come back here, Little One.”

 

“Keith!” Keith shouts at the retreating man. “My name's Keith!”

 

Lotor doesn't respond, simply melds into the crowd and Keith loses sight of him. After a moment of leaning against the wall to steady his breathing, Keith leaves through the back exit. 

 

That should have been the end of it. He should have gone home, jerked off to the memory of those hands on his hips for the next month and then _ let it go _ . 

 

But it was just the beginning.

 

-

 

Keith began going to the club every chance he got. Which, given his mother's sporadic schedule, was at least three nights a week, if not more. Keith's eyes always searched out Lotor's form first, and Lotor was always in the same secluded area, flocked by scantily clad men and women.

 

Some nights, he appeared to be on his own, but Keith quickly realized the redhead and brunette who sat a table away from Lotor at all times were with him. Some nights, he had other guests, usually in business suits or more fancy attire. Those nights felt particularly dangerous, like the air in the club was electrified. Keith would dance twice as long, but Lotor never came for him after that first night.

 

Sure, Keith had plenty of people to dance with, but he wanted Lotor's hands on him again. Some nights, he swore he could feel those eyes on him again, but when he'd chance a glance, Lotor was always looking elsewhere.

 

The funny thing was, after the first night in the club, Keith didn't even  _ have _ to look for Lotor during the day. That's not to say he didn't, but- The older man would simply  _ show up _ . Keith didn't believe in God, but he was thanking someone for this opportunity.

 

In the grocery store, they would cross paths and Keith would initiate conversation. Lotor, Keith quickly realized, was very sarcastic and quick witted. He loved it.

 

“You're really showing your age with that extra fiber cereal, Old Man.” Keith had snarked one day. 

 

“And you're showing yours with those dinosaur chicken nuggets, hm?” Lotor had replied without missing a beat, eyes still scanning the shelves for the product he needed. Keith had flushed and hid his shopping basket, ignoring the self-satisfied grin Lotor now wore.

 

-

 

Lotor started buying coffee from the shop Keith worked in. He would always order something different every time, but just as equally sugary.

 

“You're gonna need dentures by the time you're thirty, you know. All this sugar is bad for your health.” Keith had joked one day. Lotor leaned his forearms on the counter, smile on his face.

 

“Would you still be with me if I had no teeth?” 

 

Keith had hummed as he drizzled chocolate and caramel inside the plastic cup.

 

“I dunno. You already have white hair,. People would think you're my granddad and it could get kinda messy.” 

 

“It would indeed be messy; I can't hold in my drool with no teeth. My charming grandson would need to help me keep it in my mouth with his mouth.” Lotor waggled his eyebrows, tongue hanging out of his mouth, and Keith barked out a loud laugh.

 

“You're disgusting!” He laughed as he tried to finish the order without spilling it. Lotor's smile grew.

 

-

 

Three months after his seventeenth birthday, Keith walked into something he really shouldn't have. Honestly, it was a complete accident. He hadn't even been looking for Lotor, he was just trying to get home from work. 

 

When he turned down the empty alley he always does, two blocks from home, he froze. Two men are in the midst of disposing of what Keith is certain was a dead body wrapped in a black trash bag. A third man pushes off the wall and starts toward Keith. The younger man fingers the switchblade in his pocket, preparing to fight for his life. 

 

Lotor's features become recognizable the closer he comes to the street light and Keith exhales heavily.

 

“Jesus, it's just you. I thought it was someone to be worried about.” Keith jokes, hands still tucked in his jacket pockets. Lotor raised a brow, lips curling into a slow smile.

 

“You don't think I'm someone to be wary of?” he drawls, hands sliding into the pockets of his long black coat. Keith follows the motion with his eyes before flicking back up to Lotor's.

 

“Not sure I would call someone who eats Raisin Bran and carries strawberry scented hand moisturizer someone to be wary of.” Keith nods his head at the two men standing beside the overflowing blue dumpster. “Friends of yours?” Lotor shrugs one shoulder.

 

“Business associates. Isn't it past your bedtime?” Keith scoffs and readjusts his stance.

 

“I worked late shift tonight, thank you. And you? Shouldn't you be getting a blow job in the back room of Red's right now?” He snarks. Lotor chuckles.

 

“Someone sounds a little bitter.” 

 

Keith rolls his eyes.

 

“Whatever.” 

 

The black bag begins fall out of the overfilled dumpster, and the redheaded man curses as he shoves it back in.

 

“If you want some advice,” Keith begins, “I'd recommend using the dumpster off 5th Street, behind the vet clinic. The trash there gets taken every three days instead of once a week, and no one questions the rotting death smell.” He shrugs casually. 

 

“Is that so?” Lotor asks lowly.

 

“Also, they should be wearing gloves. That bag is probably covered in fingerprints by now.” Keith adds. He and Lotor stare at one another in silence for a moment, neither willing to look away first. After a while, Lotor's lips curl into a smile.

 

“Agris, Mitchell.” He addresses the other men, eyes still on Keith.

 

“Sir?” The redhead replies.

 

“Take that to the 5th Street dumpster, behind the veterinary clinic.”

 

“Yes sir.” The two men immediately begin pulling the bag back off the dumpster. Keith watches them haul it a few feet down the alley before returning his gaze to Lotor as the older man takes another step forward.

 

“And you're sure it's wise to be giving advice like this to  _ me _ , son of the current Chief of Investigation..? What would your mother say?” Lotor murmurs. Keith feels a shuddering run down his spine. Lotor is dangerous, Keith knows. He should not be turned on right now, but there it is. Hello, boner.

 

“My mother doesn't need to know.” Keith replies, just as softly. Lotor's dangerous smile grows and he's tugging Keith closer by the back of the neck.

 

Their kiss is like fire, burning Keith from the inside out. His hands grasp Lotor's hips, pulling the lithe body closer. Lotor's hands run through Keith's messy black hair, tugging and ruffling. They only kiss for a moment, but to Keith it feels like an eternity before Lotor pulls away, giving Keith's bottom lip a sharp nip. 

 

Keith shudders on an inhale, hands refusing to let go of Lotor's hips. The older man butts their foreheads together, breath ghosting over Keith's lips.

 

“Nine more months.” He whispers before extracting himself from Keith's grip and vanishing into the darkened alley.

 

-

 

And then Keith got kidnapped.

 

You would think it was because of who his mother was, but you'd be wrong. They would be thugs were a group of wannabe gangsters that decided to pick a fight with Lotor by stealing his “woman”.

 

Keith tried to convince them they were wrong, but all he got for his troubles was a busted lip, a black eye, and some bruised ribs.

 

He told them Lotor wouldn't come.

 

But then he came.

 

“Why are you here?” Keith had hissed. Lotor shrugged, looking as calm and collected as always, but Keith knew better. He could see the fury in Lotor's eyes.

 

“I can't have people like this running amuck in my territory now can I? I've got standards to uphold.” He had replied. Keith was tied to a chair, a knife to his throat, and Lotor was alone, facing seven armed men. Keith didn't see how this would end well for anyone.

 

Two men rush him at once, and Lotor holds his own for the most part. But two more jump in, and Keith is screaming, fighting against his bonds. There's blood, but he's not sure whose, and there's screaming, but he's not sure what's being said; his body burns, his throat is raw, his wrist is being shredded by rope, and Lotor is going to be beaten to death.

 

The doors to the warehouse slam open and police officers storm in. There's at least twenty, and some of the thugs try to flee. No one makes it far; the whole building was surrounded.

 

Keith's vision is blurry, but he's not sure how much is tears and how much is concussion. Someone is talking to him, untying his bonds, but his eyes are locked on the figure laying on the stone floor being prodded by police officers. When he can move, he flings himself off the seat and drops to his knees beside Lotor, ignoring every other voice.

 

“Lotor?” He calls. The older man is laying on his back, arm draped over his forehead and eyes closed. When he hears Keith's voice, he gives a bloody smile. 

 

“There's my lost Kitten.” He mumbles. Keith exhales shakily.

 

“You idiot. You're an absolute  _ idiot _ , how could you come in unarmed, what if they had  _ killed _ you?!” 

 

“Then I'd be arresting them for more than kidnapping and burglary.” An angry voice comes from above him. Keith whirls around to find his mother scowling down at him, arms folded over her uniform covered chest.

 

“ _ You _ . Have a _ lot _ of explaining to do.” 

 

-

 

And Keith did explain, mostly. He left out the bits about sneaking into a club, but for some reason, he's pretty sure Krolia already knows. She and Lotor do seem close…

 

“How do you two know each other?” Keith asks. Lotor barks a laugh from his hospital bed. Krolia, on the opposite side of the bed, raises both eyebrows.

 

“You're kidding me, right?” At Keith's blank stare, she sighs heavily and rubs her temples. “Did I not teach you  _ anything?” _

 

“We work together, sometimes.” Lotor interjects, smile curling his lips.

 

“Begrudgingly.” Krolia mumbles. She leans back in the chair and waves a hand at Lotor's bandaged face.

 

“Meet the Young Boss of the Galra Group.” Krolia announces. Keith looks back and forth between the two for a moment before snorting.

 

“You're joking, right? This guy? Is the mini-boss of a notorious gang?” Keith jerks his thumb at Lotor. The older man glares.

 

“It sounds so degrading when you say it like that. “Mini-Boss.” Ugh.” Lotor curls his upper lip, arms folded over his chest.

 

“Okay, but that's what you are, right? The mini-boss of the Mafia?” Keith presses, devious smirk on his face.

 

“Yes! Yes, alright; I'm the “Mini-boss” of this region. Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you satisfied now?” Lotor barks. Keith settles back in his chair, smug smile on his face.

 

“Very.”

 

“And this-” Krolia leans forward, face stern, and points a finger at both of the boys, “is going to stop. I don't like it, at all.”

 

“But Mom-!” Keith leans forward and hisses at the pain in his ribs. Krolia shakes her head.

 

“That’s exactly why. No.” She points first at Keith, “I don't care how close you are in age.” She glares at Lotor, “I don't care that you've never  _ actually _ been in trouble with the law. The fact still remains that you  _ are _ trouble. You're the son of an internationally known gang leader. He's my son. I won't let him put himself into danger, no matter how much of a stubborn ass he insists on being.”

 

“Regardless of how hurtful your words are, Madam Detective, I agree with you.” Krolia squints at Lotor, immediately suspicious of his agreement.

 

“Why..?” She asks slowly.

 

“Because I've grown fond of him. He reminds me of an alley cat.” Lotor replies, lips curling once more into a smile at Keith's squawk of protest. “And as of right now, I'm in the middle of a reconstruction. The territory has officially become mine and accords are being drafted. I still have some internal cleaning to do, but.” Lotor shrugs.

 

“I'm not my father. I never could be, and he knows it. I'm going to run a clean business, my way. It's going to take time and cooperation, but it'll eventually prosper.” Lotor's expression is serious and Krolia frowns.

 

“A  _ clean _ business? You expect me to believe that?” she asks, sceptical. Lotor seesaws his hand.

 

“As clean as it can be, in this line of work, really. I've already had talks with the chief of police. If you don't want to believe it, I understand. The Galra lineage is one soaked in blood. But, I refuse to stain my hands with that. I would never be able to look my mother in the face.” He answers honestly. Krolia stares hard, trying to find any traces of a lie. Upon finding only sincerity, she sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.

 

“He's still underage. As his legal guardian, it's my duty to protect him from trouble like this.”

 

“Then, when he's eighteen? Will you still protect him from “trouble” like me?” Lotor asks quietly. Krolia stands and stares down at the man.

 

“Always. I will always protect him from trouble.” She pauses, purses her lips, “But at that point, I won't have any say so over the matter anymore.” Her eyes drift to Keith, “I'll just have to hope that he uses his brain and stays safe.” She finishes, slightly softer. Keith swallows around a lump in his throat and nods.

 

“But for now!” She declares loudly, “He's still under my jurisdiction and is grounded until further notice.” 

 

Keith groans loudly and slides further into the chair as Lotor laughs.

 

\--

 

Eighteen couldn't come fast enough for Keith, who still occasionally snuck out to make out with Lotor in the club. Nothing past heavy petting, though.

 

“I promised your mother.” Lotor would grumble as he put space between them. Keith would whine about it, but always backed off when Lotor called it the end. 

 

But, eight months later, it finally happened. He woke Saturday morning to a text from his mother letting him know she worked overtime tonight and for him to be safe. Keith was giddy all day, insides fluttering like butterfly wings.

 

Shortly after seven, Keith couldn't wait any longer. He put in his tightest black jeans, the ones that made his ass look rounder, and a tight red tank top. He tied his hair up into a small ponytail as he bounded down the stairs of the apartment complex.

 

About two blocks away from the club, a sleek black BMW pulled up next to him.

 

“Just couldn't wait for tonight, could you?” Lotor's voice calls from inside. Keith ducks down to grin at the older man through the window.

 

“I've been waiting for this since I was sixteen. You gonna take me home in your shiny new car, Mr. Mini-Boss, Sir?” Keith taunts, lips pulled into a smirk. Lotor glared at the teen playfully.

 

“I think I might make you walk after that, Brat.”

 

Keith laughs and climbs into the car, immediately going in for a messy kiss. Keith's hands gripped Lotor's shoulders, slid up to his neck; Lotor gripped the back of Keith's neck with one hand, fingers tight. 

 

The kiss got more heated every second, Keith's body beginning to heat up just thinking about what comes next. He whined as Lotor pulled away, both breathing heavily. Lotor's eyes were darkened with lust and Keith knew he must look the same. 

 

“I'm going too  _ ravage _ you, Little One.” Lotor growls against his lips. Keith shudders, fingers tightening on Lotor's dress shirt.

 

“ _ Please _ .” Keith whines. Lotor nips his bottom lip before pulling away and settling back into the driver's seat.

 

“Buckle up. I don't need your mother ruining tonight for me.” Lotor instructs as he pulls away from the curb. Keith laughs but buckles his belt anyways.

 

“She's not a traffic cop, you know.”

 

“I'm aware. She's just an “I'm watching you always” cop. You can't get anything past her.” Lotor gripes. Keith laughs and settles into the leather seat, trying to ignore his slight hardness and growing nerves.

 

Lotor's hand grips his on the console and Keith feels himself blush. He smiles at the window the rest of the drive, so he misses Lotor smiling as well.

 

\--

 

Keith fingers the gold band on his left hand as he sits on the foot of the bed beside Kova. Seven years went by like the blink of an eye. There were crazy ups and downs, but Keith wouldn't have traded one day of it all. 

 

The cat meows and headbutts Keith's thigh. Keith laughs softly and gives the sleek black fur a few strokes before standing and straightening his red button down shirt. The front door opening makes both occupants of the room perk up. Kova is faster, so by the time Keith walks into the living room, Lotor has an arm full of squirmy black fur.

 

“That's my girl. You missed Daddy, huh?” Lotor croons. The cat meows as she soaks up all the snuggles and Lotor giggles. Keith rolls his eyes.

 

“I missed you too, if that counts for anything?” He snarks. Lotor laughs as he helps Kova onto the sofa.

 

“You missed Daddy too, hm?” Lotor teases. Keith scoffs as he drops his arms around Lotor's shoulders.

 

“When have I  _ ever _ called you that?” 

 

“There's a first for everything, Darling.” Lotor replies, hands going to Keith's hips.

 

“Oh, so you  _ want _ me to call you Daddy? Did you find a new kink today, Mini-boss?” Keith smirks at the taller man. Lotor's eyes narrow, lips still curled in a smile.

 

“You're insufferable.” 

 

They meet halfway for a chaste kiss. Keith glides his fingers into Lotor's hair and scratches at the other man's scalp for a moment before pulling away and pressing their foreheads together.

 

“Happy anniversary, Lotor.” Keith whispers.

 

“Happy birthday, Kitten.” Lotor mumbles against Keith's lips.


End file.
